


Miscreant

by Naveri



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Arrogant Kieran, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I hate chairs, Kieran Will Die for Lauren, Kieran is being a flirt, Kieran is high, Lots of tears, Nurse!Lauren, Ruining Kieran, Torture, Violence, dumb drunks, lil spicy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naveri/pseuds/Naveri
Summary: For the one person he would suffer for. She was worth everything. All the pain in the world. All the suffering he could endure.He was ready to die here if it meant she was safe from him.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White, Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 24
Kudos: 136





	1. Miscreant

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Torture, brutality, and hurting Kieran all in the name of love.

**Chapter I: Miscreant**

Lauren wasn't sure what possessed her to follow him into the scum part of town. After he started work at the precinct, it terrified her. She wanted to protect her friends. How was she supposed to do that when they were no longer talking? She couldn’t trust him. That was the only reason for her following him through the dark alleys, passed Grey Chapel and through the muddied, filthy streets. It might have been her pride that kept her from asking him questions. She didn’t want it to look like she needed help or was curious about his whereabouts. 

_That was definitely not what she wanted. He’d never let that go._

After their split up, she couldn't bring herself to connect with him on the basis of what they were before. As Lune. So, she followed him. He hadn't seemed to notice, but once she found her way into the back entrance of the pub she realized her monumental mistake. She was locked in there, hiding away behind crates. An argument was happening between Kieran and one of the Messengers. 

"You did not dispose of _her_ like we asked of you. Explain yourself, Purple Hyacinth." 

Lauren held her breath.

Kieran scoffed leaning against the table. "She is of no use to us dead, if we antagonize the Chief of Police by murdering his niece, it will only cause problems for the Phantom Scythe." 

The Messenger came at him in a flash, hands around his throat. Kieran's body slammed against the concrete wall with a loud thud. "You dare question the Leader's orders? You know what happens when you _disobey_.” 

Silence was met and Lauren was shaking. She had never seen anyone else dare lay a hand on him like this. And for what? Because of her?! Lauren ducked lower behind the crates when two dirty looking PS thugs walked in from the left hallway. The Messenger only nodded at them, and each man took an arm, dragging Kieran away from the room down the hallway and into the cell room ahead. She gulped. 

_Kieran, what are you doing._

_Fight back._

They threw him down in the metal chair that roughly skirted along the floor covered in dry blood stains. Chains hung from it, and soon were wrapped to keep him from struggling. 

The Messenger stood outside the cell door. "Penance is your choice? So be it." He turned on his heel, walking right past the crates. Lauren froze, worried he'd hear the loud drumming of her heart as she stayed still. Her legs burning from tightness, her mouth so dry, it hurt to swallow the already sore pain wrapped around her skin from the man now prepared to _suffer for her._

The piercing scream shook her out of her element and she whipped her head around to see Kieran gritting his teeth, seething with anger. The scream scared her more than anything she’d ever felt before. Never did she hear such a painful cry from someone, let alone Kieran. The Purple Hyacinth! 

Already blood was dripping from his arms where a few deep cuts were made. The two men standing before him laughed, tightening the chains on the open wounds. The smaller brute grabbed his jaw to face him and landed a punch. Kieran slowly turned back to look at the man to spit the blood from his mouth. The brute slammed another fist into his cheek. His neck twisted, and a crack of his jaw was heard bouncing off the dark and damp cell. “We ain’t gonna get a word outta him. I heard he never spoke the time before too.” 

The man to the left straightened him up against the chair, another punch thrown. This one, much more brutal. Lauren flinched with each impact. Her fingers drew blood from the palms as she crouched there. A rising bellow of thunder crashing down as each punch on Kieran’s body pushed the chair back until it hit the wall. 

Lauren swallowed, the dryness withering away long enough for her to be able to take a breath. 

Silence. 

“Your punching isn’t effective, you idiot.” Suddenly, deja vu crashed over her as an all too familiar laugh fell over the area. It was sinister. Kieran was laughing. He was _coping._

“What’s funny?” The brute asked, cracking his knuckles and roughly grabbing hold of the white dress shirt caked in blood. 

“I will _never_ hurt her, _again_ .” Kieran growled, teeth bared and a darkness falling over him. Blood crawled over his lashes, dressing his cheeks and filling his lips. It was nothing compared to what she witnessed in the cave. _No this is real anger._

The two men laughed but it was cut short as one of them screamed. Kieran had gotten out of the chains somehow and was already on the guy, fist in the air and coming down repeatedly. 

She should help. 

She should get up. 

_Get up, Lauren. GO!_

Lauren's body jolted, but she was frozen to the spot, staring at Kieran pummeling the man. The guy behind him grabbed him with such force and threw him back down in the chair. He was huge compared to Kieran, it’s not wonder he couldn’t get out of his grasp. 

“You fucking idiot! Get up and do your goddamn job!” The other man stumbled up, gripping Kieran’s other arm. Kieran’s breaths staggered. He was having trouble breathing, and blood loss from the wounds on his arms were getting to him. The smaller man reached for the hammer in his back pocket and held Kieran’s fingers, looking back at his partner, then back to Kieran “Are ya going to fucking talk, or ya still want to belt out a laugh?”

The bigger brute smacked the guy upside the head. “He doesn’t need to talk. He chose penance. If little love sick puppy wants to protect the girl, that’s his choice. Now do the job, I got places to be!” 

**_CRACK._ **

A belting scream came from Kieran and Lauren huffed in pain. She covered her mouth, hands shaking viciously. _Please, stop!_

**_CRACK._ **

Kieran’s breathing rapidly increased as he cried out in pain again. Lauren tightly shut her eyes, her lashes brimming with tears as she tried to control the yelp wanting to leave her body. _Kieran, Please!_

**_CRACK._ **

Again. Another deep exhausted cry left his body, and then the coughs began. Blood falling from his lips as his head fell to a limp. Each cough exhibited a horrible shake and she was sure his lung was punctured. _He might die here and I’m being a coward!_

**_CRACK._ **

Kieran’s screams would haunt her for the rest of her life. His broken fingers limp and lifeless against the metal of the chair. The smaller man chuckled as Kieran raised his head, a grin plastered to his face. “Go to hell, you piece of shit.” 

The man stopped laughing, a disgusted expression riding over him. Raising his arm as high as he could go he slammed it down upon the last remaining digit. It was the loudest, darkest cry, from the very back of his throat that he could muster. Lauren couldn’t stop the tears. She couldn’t stop her runny nose, or the chokes falling along her dried throat. Pinching her esophagus for release. 

The chains were once again wrapped up around his body, cold metal burning into the open cuts. “Let’s go and get a drink. We’ll come back and finish this afterwards. I got a game to win.” The large brute spit on Kieran’s lap, walking out of the cell and heading out of view down the left side of the hall. The other man whipped the hammer across Kieran’s already blood stained face, Kieran didn’t make a sound as the door slammed shut and the sound of footfalls growing quiet. Lauren crouched there for a moment, the only tune that of Kieran’s haggard breathing and rattling chains. _Now. I need to get him out of here. Now!_

Lauren pushed her burning numb legs to stand. She stumbled against the wall. Vision blurred and coated in tears. Her heels gave way and his head snapped up. The piercing pools of ice blue against stark red stared back at her in horrifying shock. Lauren gained momentum and crashed against the bars of the door. 

She grabbed her hairpin and gracefully picked the lock despite her shaking hands. Once inside, she rushed to him, falling to her knees and bawling. Her fingers grasped his thighs as she shook. A whimper escaped. That painful, sorrowful choke finally reached her tongue. “Kieran.” 

She could barely understand what he said next, the pain of his lungs, and the scratch of his throat made him sound like that of a dying man. “Lauren. You need to go. You need to leave.” Lauren didn’t speak, standing quickly. She made quick work of the chains, careful not to hurt him. 

“Stop.”

She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t leave him here.

“Stop!” He choked, blood spilling out over the corners of his mouth. 

Lauren gripped his upper arm tightly. Her hair covered her expression, attempting to control the next barrel of tears ready to pour from her being. “God damn it, Kieran! Let me do this. Have you forgotten? If you go down, I go down. Now come on, Subordinate. We’re getting out of here.”

He watched the face of determination from the woman he was slowly becoming enamored of.

For the one person he would suffer for.

She was worth _everything._

All the pain in the world. 

All the suffering he could endure. 

He was ready to die here if it meant she was safe from him. 

But that very same woman was willing to risk it all.

_Just for a monster._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this.
> 
> Okay, no I'm not actually.  
> I'm sorry to Kieran. Your beautiful face does not deserve such brutality.
> 
> There will be another chapter. Don't worry your angst filled cups. Fluffambulance is on its way.


	2. Flightless Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran and Lauren manage to escape from the torturous hell and make their way through the streets. 
> 
> To where?
> 
> That's up to the damaged and broken, Kieran White.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had Aurora's 'Exist for Love' on repeat for this chapter :) 
> 
> I'm not sure why such a fluffy, soothing tune would fit so well. I suppose, maybe these two walking through the dark lamp lighted streets of Ardhalis seem like an odd kind of comforting romance, despite you know broken fingers and injuries. 
> 
> I don't have a specific POV going here, just flip flops between them. Hope it's not confusing.

**Chapter II: Flightless Bird**

Kieran’s feet were currently half dragging, half stomping across the muddy pavement. Between bursts of coughing up blood and making snide remarks, he was silent. Lauren kept her arm around him, holding him up the best she could. 

“You know, you’re a lot heavier than you look.”

“Oh, **why thank you Officer, I am flattered.** ” He coughed again, stopping to flatten his shoulder along the brick wall of a building. 

“We have to keep moving, Kieran. I can’t carry your ass. So, come on.” 

Lauren tried to pull him forward again. He pushed her away, dragging along the building, shoulder bumping off and on the brick. 

“We can’t go to my apartment.”

“The cave then.” Lauren crossed her arms.

He winched, using his left hand to run his fingers through his filthy damp hair. 

“No. They’ll be looking for me.” 

Lauren’s eyes glanced around to see if anyone was in the vicinity. “Okay, I’m out of ideas.”

His feet moved again, trudging along the sidewalk, his body like a flimsy shadow cast from the moon. 

“I have another place.”

Lauren gave him a questioning glance, purely surprised that he had yet another hideout. “Another bat cave?”

He chuckled, coughing again and groaning. “Gods, no.” 

Lauren grew bored of watching him struggle on his own, stomping over to him. Her arm slipped around his waist to lean him against her. 

“You can be an asshole later, just rely on me until we can get you somewhere safe. Your wounds are bad, we need to take care of them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Lauren glanced at him, anxiety boiling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure if he’d even make it to wherever they were going. As if he read her mind, he spoke in a hushed tone against her ear. 

“7th Precinct.” 

She halted, then dropped him. He yelped in pain “What the hell, woman!” 

She threw her arms up for a moment, fingers landing between her eyes and squeezing. “Are you insane!? We’ll never make it there. Damn it, Kieran.” 

Lauren saw an alleyway further ahead, helping him back up and dragging his ass to the darkness. 

“I’ll try my best to fix you up before we keep going.” 

Kieran nodded, swaying over to the blackness of the alleyway and crashing against the building, his legs giving out and slipping to the ground. He released a heavy groan of relief. Lauren knelt, digging around in her coat pocket to procure a handkerchief. Her hands delicately tapped at the cuts upon his arms. 

“They’re not too deep, but better to wrap them until we can disinfect the wounds. I’ll need your shirt.” 

Kieran was staring at her with a qualm expression. His broken hand lay dead upon his knee, his other hand going to the buttons. He was tired by the third button, his mind of daze and cotton. She muttered a groan, slapping his hand away, making quick work with the rest of them. She tried to ignore the blood splattered all over his nice white shirt. Instead, trying to map in her mind, the quickest way to the 7th Precinct. Again his flirty tone broke her thoughts.

“ **Truly a romantic spot for undressing me, darling.** ” 

“Shut up, your lung might be punctured. Better that you stop talking.” 

He hummed, suppressing a cough. His eyes were gazing at his hand. A pit of terrifying dread creeping up within his blood, swallowing his veins, and choking the happiness from his heart. He tugged off one of the sleeves, allowing Lauren to carefully pull the other one from his damaged goods.

“How is the Purple Hyacinth supposed to perform his duties with a broken hand?” 

_She would mention that, over anything else…_

“Well, those two drunk fools will be dealt with. The Leader won’t be happy for a multitude of reasons. They’ll most likely be killed for damaging me and secondly for me escaping. Not as if that’s any surprise.”

Lauren stopped what she was doing, her glare a pinpoint on his mind. “But you weren’t going to escape.”

The air was stifling, cut like the blade he no longer could use. 

Lauren ignored his silence, attempting to lighten the mood. “You don’t happen to be ambidextrous? No hidden rare amazing talent from the one and only best assassin in the city?”

“Hmm, ‘fraid not.” 

Kieran pulled his gaze from his hand, opting to absorb the only thing worth looking at. He watched her disheveled straight locks framing her face. The dried up tears he caused, still present in the moonlight. He still didn’t know why she was there, but he assumed she followed him and witnessed the entire thing. The one thing he never wanted her to see. He also didn’t want her feeling guilty in any capacity. It would never be her fault. He caught the focus of her golden crystalline gems, her pale fingers ripping up his tainted shirt into slivers, wrapping them delicately over the wounds running along his arms. She was aware of his stare, not bothering with him and continuing her work. Her palms brushed on her thighs, standing to stretch her legs.

“Alright, now for your hand.” 

She stepped closer, kneeling again and practically shoved between his thighs. His arm still rested upon his knee, her cold digits grasping at his wrist to inspect the mangled fingers. He heard a curse beneath her breath and the disdain in her eyes. Guilt rode her expression like a tide, a push and pull of anger and sadness. 

When she finally began to work on tying his fingers into one bundle he groaned. A painful curse escaping him. 

She quipped. “Sorry.” 

“What a pain.” 

His ability to brush off this situation was surprising, even to himself. If Lauren wasn’t here, he’d be wallowing in his depression. 

Once she was finished, her cold hands touched his left cheek. He flinched, so unaccustomed to anyone touching him delicately, or at all. Lauren’s exasperated growl caused a shiver through his spine. 

“Looks bad. That piece of shit hit you with the hammer pretty good.” 

He rolled his eyes, his ability to act tough waning. “I wasn’t exactly begging for them to stop either.”

“Well, you are a taunting pompous asshole.” 

Kieran made a snide remark, presenting her with a snarky smile. 

“You have to be, in those situations.” 

He was rewarded with a casual eye roll from her. Her hand began tapping at his wound, the handkerchief; a soft fabric, similar to that of the pressure of her fingers. The intoxicating smell of Lauren’s subtle perfume clinging to his skin. His mind circulated, attempting to figure out which floral scent it was. Lauren sighed as she continued her work, she couldn’t really say much to him about ‘those situations’. Choosing to ignore the comment and not wanting to question how many times he’d actually been through something like that. 

“All done. We should get a move on before it’s too late.” Lauren stood, the clank of her heels echoing off the pavement as she walked to the opening of the alleyway to look around. Kieran pushed off the building to stand, his left hand slipping from the dew, his feet clumsily stumbling into a walk.

“Do you think you can walk the rest of the way?”

“Yes, I just need to get my bearings. I took pain medication before meeting with the Messenger. The situation...kind of amplified the effects a bit…”

Lauren froze, whipping in his direction. Her face, again that of the tide smashing along the precipice; a storm filled with raging anger, guilt, and pity that slowly washed over her until there was nothing but a blank slate. The cast of the moon rays, a glow of midnight heaven fluttering upon her back. Her red locks, a luminescence of sunlight to his eyes and fueling him. A bloom of warmth sprouting beneath his blood, his veins, _his heart_ that was almost snuffed of his happiness. 

_Or maybe he was just high._

Lauren gave him a snappy tone. “You’re telling me you knew exactly what was going to happen when you went there?” 

“Darling, such is the punishment of disobeying orders.”

“Kieran…”

“Let’s talk about this later, when I can have a hot cup of tea, or a whiskey bottle. Whichever comes first.” 

Lauren wanted to apologize, considering his words and deciding to wait. Her eyes kept glancing at his shirtless form, the rest of him thankfully intact. 

“Have my jacket.” 

She wiggled out of it, walking to him and placing it over his broad shoulders. He stood there like a dope, clearly aware of the entertainment she was receiving. 

“Alright subordinate, try not to trip and fall and undo all of my hard work.” 

“Aye, aye.” 

* * *

Lauren checked her watch one too many times. It was past midnight now, the moon high in the sparkling night sky. They’re lucky it didn’t rain. She was currently gaining amusement from Kieran’s drunk stupor, or rather his high. He must have taken quite a bit of pain medication. He seemed fine, despite all his messed up trauma and wounds. Her jacket whipped in the wind, clinging to his muscular shoulders and once in a while he’d turn to her, giving her a full show of his abs. Lauren disagreed with her mind, stating they were nothing she hasn’t seen before. 

_Absolutely, not impressive. Whatsoever._

“Not much further!” He cheered, his footing still haphazard, his arm that of a one winged flightless bird. His sway, a leaf gliding through the wind. A hat lost on a summer breeze, drifting and free. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, you can’t feel anything now, but you will later.” Lauren bit her tongue, pursuing her lips when she realized she sounded like a mother.

He pointed down the road. “There!!” A tone of giddy exuberance and exhaustion falling through the air.

“About damn time. You’re lucky it’s a weekend! I’d never make it to work on time from here, and you. _You._ How would you even explain your injuries?”

He raised his one good arm and shrugged. “Uhh, bar fight?”

She smacked her forehead, jogging to catch up with the shadow dancing beneath the moonlight. It reminded her of the night of their deal. Him casually bouncing around, swinging around lamp posts, balancing on a bridge. A soul, so carefree in the world despite his life and what it is. 

She had never really been around this part of town before. It was a quiet suburb, with much more land spanning in the distance, bigger yards, and a comforting glow of lamps lining the streets. Kieran stopped his dance in the wind, stepping up to a dark blue house. 

“This is us.” 

He bowed, his left hand extending toward the stone steps. Lauren seemed taken aback, the size of the place much larger than his apartment, and dare she say, _cute._ It clearly looked like a family home. He watched her go, following her lead and stepping up with a stumble. She stood at the door, waiting for him to procure a key. Kieran stepped up from behind her, his chest pressing against her back, the feel of his warmth radiating through the thin material of her shirt and his arm reaching up to grab at something behind the black lamp near the doorway. Where her senses should tell her his musk smelled of sweat and blood, and therefore terrible, it was instead, oddly intoxicating. 

The keys jingled around his left hand, fumbling and crisscrossing through his fingers before getting it straight and unlocking the door. He gazed her way, that small seductive smile on his face. 

  
“Welcome to my _real_ home, Lauren Sinclair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments fill my cup to continue this, I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this after next chapter, but where's the fun in knowing the journey amirite? 
> 
> Filling my mug....dare I say can also conjure some spice? 
> 
> Or Angst.
> 
> Definitely Angst.


	3. Chaos Within Its Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lauren is left tending to the consequences of the torture, and dealing with Kieran, who might have found a whiskey bottle in the cabinet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, Naveri here :)!
> 
> First of all, thank you SO MUCH for your patience waiting for the release of this chapter! You probably know, I wrote a load of other stories in the mean time after releasing Miscreant. I didn't forget it, in fact, I really do adore it. I worked on this chapter off and on throughout my other writings. Mainly, I had the entire idea down, I was just unsure where I wanted to stop in the story. 
> 
> This chapter, I wanted to be a reflection on Kieran's hands and his passions. His livelihood. So, with that in mind, you'll understand why I have written this chapter the way it is!

“Welcome to my _real_ home, Lauren Sinclair.”

Arm outstretched and elegant, he didn’t move, only extending an invitation and opening the door for her. She halted, staring at him for a moment then slipping by him to enter into a dark foyer. Lauren inhaled, the scent of a campfire and apples wrapping her up in the shadow comfort. Kieran, or someone had obviously been here recently. She squinted, golden shimmers adjusting to the darkness. Turning her head back toward the door, she observed Kieran stumbling into the house. His form fell into the basking moonlight pooling in from the windows on either side of the small entrance. 

Her eyes roamed the comfort of the foyer. The scent of leather present from a few of the clothing hung up on the coat rack. A closet was to her left, and on the floor, a few pairs of shoes were seated neatly on the mat upon it. All of Kieran’s shoes, she presumed. She was commonly used to his boots and fancy wear, but these were slip ons and sandals. Just the entrance alone wrapped her in a lived in and comfortable family home. 

_And yet, he lives here by himself?_

The click of the door lock sounded. Kieran hopped on one foot, grabbing his leg and casually reaching for his shoe lace with a stumble. Kieran’s back slammed against the dark blue painted walls, and in return he flashed her a guilty grin. He almost blended in with the black cloak of the room if not for the moonlight lighting up his features. Lauren's arms came out for him as he raised his good hand, chuckling to himself while eyeing her with an arched brow. 

“I can do it.” His reassurance playing along a perky smile. He threw his shoe off letting it fall haphazardly on to the stone tiled floor. Hopping on his other leg to do the same, his partner watched on in amusement, rolling her eyes while he struggled. It became more agonizing than entertaining. 

Delicately, she slipped her own shoes off and neatly placed them down on the mat next to his other foot wear. Her eyes went back to watching him with interest. He had finally relieved his feet of his constraints, her hands reaching out to brush along his bare skin and slipping her jacket from his broad shoulders. She hung it up on the coat rack, twisting slightly to meet the heated gaze she felt. Kieran stood there, drinking her in for a pause. Her brow arched, waiting for him to say something. It was very reminiscent of the time at his apartment, but so much closer.

_Oookay then._

“Let’s get you treated and then you can get some rest.” 

The dreaded assassin, now jolted from his stupor, rose an arm and waved her off. Kieran swayed forward off the wall and through the archway that separated the foyer to the hallway. In front of her and past the archway, a small staircase to the right led upstairs and the hall next to it, branching off to the right. She followed him as they headed left into a spacious living room. A large black leather plush couch resided to the front of her, near the two large windows that opened up to the front porch. A very nicely carved wooden coffee table was placed in front of the couch. It was bare minus a few books and pens. 

Against the furthest wall in front of her was a much larger fireplace than the one in his apartment. Made of white stone and brick, it was decorated with more books and _picture frames. So, he does have some._ The firewood huddled up was recently burned. To the right of it, a black lamp stood where she assumed Kieran would spend most of his nights if he were staying. A similar black plush recliner sat beside the lamp, piled with books on the floor and on the seat. The small table, resembling the coffee table, also had sketchbooks and novels stacked upon it, a pair of glasses, pens, and pencils placed randomly upon its surface. 

_He really must like to read and draw._

Lauren found her gazing aiming for his broken fingers. Still wrapped up, messy and incomplete. Kieran hadn’t noticed her full stop and observation of the living room, already walking past it and into the kitchen and flipping on the light. The two rooms were split with another archway like before and the kitchen so much larger than his apartment. It had an entire island, chairs set up and a full wrap around counter along the wall. 

_Even two stacked ovens?_

He was limping to the cabinets by now, holding his weight onto the marbled countertop with his good hand. Kieran reached up, throwing open the cabinet door with a gusty tug and began digging through it. She took a glimpse at the medical kits and other bandages piled high inside and raised an eyebrow. 

_A whole cabinet of medical supplies, why am I not surprised? Oh-I should probably help him._

Lauren was interrupted from her thoughts, bandages tumbling down onto the ground and unraveling. Kieran released an exhausted sigh followed by a mumble of curses. He was cradling his broken hand against his chest while leaning down to pick up the items escaping. Lauren sighed, gliding over to place a hand on his bare shoulder to pull him up. He was freezing and yet his skin was clammy. He stopped abruptly, looking up at her in a daze. 

“Please, subordinate. Stop making a fool of yourself and go sit down in the living room. I’ll grab everything.” 

With a huff, he nodded in acceptance. He stood up, walking around to the other side of the kitchen to open another cabinet and procuring a whiskey bottle. He leaned his weight on the island, making his way around to sway toward the couch. The sound of the bottle being popped open caught her attention, turning slightly to watch Kieran flatten onto the couch in a heap and chug from the bottle.

“What the hell are you doing!? You shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on pain medication!”

Her arms now bundled up with the medical supplies walked back over to him and set them upon the coffee table. He didn’t bother with responding, instead pointing with whiskey in hand toward a door next to the staircase. 

“The rest of the stuff is in the bathroom, beneath the sink.” He mumbled, taking another chug. Lauren whisked her hand around the glass bottle, taking it from him mid-chug and receiving an angry grunt. 

“You know...I--deserve that bottle. If you weren’t made aware, I’m in a lot of _pain._ ” 

"I am also aware that you're delusional right now and clearly not in your head. Now lay there and wait for me."

He gave her a lopsided naughty grin and she rolled her eyes.

“That’s not--” Lauren sighed, ignoring his stare as she headed off to the bathroom, the whiskey bottle tightly snug between her arm and chest. Once she returned, Kieran was up again, starting the fire and poking at the wood. Lauren groaned, placing the items and bottle down on the coffee table. 

"Will you come here." She demanded, hands on her hips, watching him with ridicule. Kieran mocked her words with a sarcastic whisper, standing up and chucking the fire iron to the ground. He moved at a sluggish pace back to the couch. Lauren pushed him down gently, hazy eyes following her movements as she grabbed for the disinfectant and cloth. Kneeling down on the plush rug beneath her, she found herself in the promiscuous position of being between his legs. Lauren didn't bother to entertain him and his reasoning for gazing at her from above with those hooded eyes.

Delicately, her hands reached for his left arm, threading away the shirt tethers keeping the blood at bay and placing them on the table. She kept quiet, preparing the disinfectant and cleaning away at the wounds upon his arm. She tapped it gently, focused on her work so she wasn't distracted by the way his legs spread to accommodate her figure sitting on the floor in front of him. Once she was finished, she reached for the bandages, preparing them and slowly wrapping them along his wounds. They were deep cuts, but he would manage all the same. 

Thankfully for her, Kieran stayed quiet, finally sliding his gaze from her and staring into the fire. Applying the disinfectant didn’t seem to bother him in the least. Once she was finished with one arm, her hands spiraled around his soft and clammy skin with the bandage until it was clean and tight.

“You always do this so much better than I ever could. Maybe I should come to you every time I get hurt.” 

Lauren scoffed, her long pale fingers gently peeling away the makeshift bandages on his right arm. “Then I’d have to deal with seeing you every single night, with how reckless you seem to be. I’m not a fool, I saw all the scars you have.” 

She heard him hum in agreement but he kept quiet, his gaze now on his broken hand. Lauren clumped the dirty bandages with the others, soaking the cloth and cleaning his wounds. Her work was quick, and Kieran stayed absolutely still, but she could tell he was tense. Kieran subconsciously tightened his thighs against her shoulder blades, releasing his tension the moment they made contact. He blew a strand of hair from his face, turning away to mindlessly look at something else. She did her work better in silence, she was thankful for him not yapping away. Lauren clapped her hands together, jolting his gaze from the window. Her hands planted themselves on his thighs with a slap and he yelped in surprise. 

“Alright, your arms are officially mummified. I’ll get to your face but first---.” Her gaze trailed to his helpless fingers. “I need to get ice for your fingers.” 

Clenching his jaw, he stared down at her probing gaze. A nod came next, his mouth opening slightly to speak, but shut shortly after she stood to go procure ice from the fridge. She hurried back, wrapping a towel she found on the oven handle around the ice bag. He didn’t reach for it, staring into the fire and ignoring her. Lauren plopped it into his good hand, and sat down on the couch next to him. He took over half of it, so she pushed him with her hips to scoot over. Kieran groaned, lazily moving a little, his arm swinging over to hold the ice down onto the fingers he so desperately wanted to forget about. 

“I need you to look at me so I can tend to your bruises.” 

“They don’t need tending. I can deal with it later.”

“With one hand, jacked up on medication and alcohol. Sure.” Lauren released an exhausted sigh, his attitude becoming an annoyance in her side. She had thankfully found some bruising cream in the bathroom, reaching for it and opening it. Kieran still didn’t look at her so she resorted to force, her fingers grabbing his chin and forcefully turning him to face her. His jaw clenched again beneath her touch, a guarded gaze and a frustrated brow furrowing into his handsome and bruised complexion. If he was going to act like a grumpy child, then she’d have to stoop to his usual level. Her mouth upturned, a quirky smile wrapped on her lips while she spoke.

“Don’t you favor your face? Your ego would shatter if it was ruined.”

He couldn’t help it. Her lips were distracting, and he was...not sober. His eyes focused on their color. Pink rosy, still cold from their walk but warm beneath the firelight. She applied the cream to her finger and began gently tapping it over the now brownish and purple marks scattered along his features. Kieran clicked his tongue at the pain, not able to turn away from her while she worked. The cream was cold to the touch and it stung a lot more than his arms, surprisingly. 

“They always heal. Have no fear officer, your partner in crime will still be devilishly handsome in due time.” 

Satisfied with his answer, Lauren’s quirky smile fell to a gentle one and her focus now slipping into a trance. She was done applying the cream in all the right spots but her hands stayed, cupping his cheek so he wouldn’t turn away from her. And she asked the question. The burning question since the moment she saw him there in the metal chair. The moment he began taking the torture and saying nothing but taunts. Their entire walk beneath the moonlight. She had to know.

“Why endure the pain? Why?”

Kieran inhaled a breath before speaking. “Why would I expose you? What good would that do for me?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what.”

Her hand dropped along with her eyes, fingers gripping her pants. “Answer my question, with a question.” That challenging glare met his eyes again. “Now tell me.”

Kieran was good at putting on the mask. So he did, his lips in a thin line and his expression dull and uninterested in the conversation. “I just did.”

“You’re impossible.”

She stood up, leaving the couch and the warmth of his presence. She wanted to disregard his longful gaze. His words, a contradiction to his emotions spilling from him. She could tell, being that close to him, the way he bit his lip in thought and the way his eyes wavered between hers. He may have thought he was pulling a fast one on her, but he was so utterly obvious. Must have been the pain meds and alcohol---shit. She turned around to him drinking from it again. Their eyes locked. He stopped mid chug, bottle still tilted, and lips locked around the opening. The liquid sloshed in the glass bottle, his hand lowering to play in this staring contest they kept doing.

“I’m an adult, Lauren. I’m fine.” 

“Whatever. I need to find splints for your fingers.” Her gaze found the pile of pencils on the desk near the chair. “Your pencils would--”

The whiskey bottled slammed onto the coffee table. Kieran snapped. “No.”

“They’d work.”

“Not those.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lauren crossed her arms, becoming impatient with the soon to be drunk. “Okay, you have less significant pencils?”

He stood, stumbling a bit and the back of his knees catching the couch cushions. “I---Yes, I’ll go get them.”

Lauren stepped forward, grabbing his shoulders to steady him. “No. You stay here and tell me where they are.” 

His good hand brushed her away, trying to maneuver around her. Lauren stood her ground, crossing her arms again and blocking his way. “I’ll go. It’s fine.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye--will you stop!”

Kieran stepped away, falling gently to the couch and grabbing the bottle again. He sighed heavily. “...They’re upstairs. Door on the left. In the desk, the right drawer will have a grey container. Any pencil will suffice as long as it’s not the black or green pencils. Those are my shading ones.” 

With another sigh, she waved her hand and headed toward the stairs. “Yeah, Yeah.” Kieran turned and pointed at her. “And no snooping, or I’ll **definitely kill you** **.”** She couldn’t help the snort that rose up, heading upstairs and shouting out to him. “Just stay here and try not to pass out before I can set your fingers right!”

* * *

The hallway was dark, but she preferred it that way. The less likely she’d snoop. Finding the room on the left, she entered, the creak of the door and floorboards the only indication of her presence. _Grey container. No snooping._ But for all it was worth, she wanted to explore the room she entered. A large soft rug lined most of it, and shelves lined the walls, all filled with books. It looked like an office, much like her own, desk in the corner filled with papers and drawing materials. In the center of the room, however, concerned her. His books weren’t just on the walls, they were in stacks upon the rug, some even still laid open and papers of all kinds were scattered around in piles or in protective slips. If she thought the chair in the living room was his most lived spot in the house, she was clearly proven wrong.

Stepping around anything upon the floor, she roped around his desk, pulling open the right drawer to see a few rectangular canisters. The grey one caught her eye and she slipped it open, making sure _not_ to snap his shading pencils in half. Closing the drawer, her eyes met the seat to her left. Something urged her forward, hands gliding along the leather and her form sinking into the plush office chair. 

_Kieran’s office. His home. Is this all he does? Read? Draw? Alone?_

Lifting herself up, she quickly left the room before the emotions could surge. It was something she’d need to dwell on later. Hopping down the stairs, the warmth of the fire invited her back into the living room. Kieran was still awake, topping off the alcohol when she walked over to him.

“Lovely office, subordinate.” 

“The chaos of my brain unleashes within its walls.”

Her usual snide remark was left hanging, and he noticed, turning at the absence of her retort. Instead, it was soothing. “I got the right pencils, let’s get your hands situated and then you can get some sleep.” 

“First, I need another bottle of this whiskey.”

“How is the pain medication and half a bottle of whiskey not enough?”

His arms brushed over his body in exaggeration. “I’m not passed out yet, that’s a fine indicator, detective.” 

She dropped the pencils, walking away to the kitchen to grab another. When she returned he was already reaching forward to grab the bottle and pop the cap off with his one hand. Lauren sits, preparing to get this over with, because she too was tired. The ice bag is thrown to the side, taking his cold hands into hers and gently placing the splints one by one. Kieran cringes by the second finger, grabbing for the whiskey and taking another swig. His stare follows after, and then his teasing tone comes next.

“Do you want _some_?”

“No.”

“You don’t want _some_ of _this?”_ He purrs, shaking the bottle. Lauren’s eyes shift to him for a second before returning to her work on his middle finger. She clearly sees where he is going with this, but she was sure he would never bring up the dreadful thing Kym shouted through the precinct. 

“What was it she said? ‘My girl is getting some’.”

“She said nothing.” Lauren pulled the bandage a little tighter on his last finger and Kieran hissed. Her gaze falls to him and he’s smiling back despite the pain she gave him. 

“I’ll give you something.”

“Oh?”

“A punch in the face.”

Kieran cackled, his gaze falling to his fingers, and it softened with surprise. “It feels a lot better now, thank you.” He practically felt her tired sigh, it was heavy with words unsaid. 

"You’re so stupid.”

Regarding her with a lazy stare, he stood abruptly, swaying upon his feet but coherent enough to stay stable. “I do stupid things for equally stupid people.”

“We’re not done here. Sit back down.”

“You’ve had your fun playing doctor, now I am going to finish this bottle and fall into an entire day worth of sleep.”

She stood, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back down. His body was loose and warm to her touch. “You can do that after I check your ribs, now sit down and stay here before you bust your already busted face on your nice coffee table.”

Kieran chuckled lightly, “Oh, does the Officer perhaps, like my taste in home décor? Or perhaps the devilish looks of the man sitting before you?” Lauren ignored the way he moved closer, forcing her hands forward to grip around his ribs. She quipped, “It’s okay. I think it’s beautiful. A bit messy though.” Her hands softly glided along his abs now. _He seems fine. That’s good, I was sure he’d been beaten up more. His endurance...is terrifying._ Then she went still, Kieran leaning forward into her ear.

“Everything I do is messy, it’s whether I chose to clean it up or have someone else do it for me.”

“All things considered, I get what you mean--” Then her brain registered his words and his tone. Her glare whipped to him, and then a hand came out to smack him upside the head. Kieran pulled away crying out, “Ow! Why did you hit me, am I not hurt enough?”

“Go to bed!”

He laughed, standing up and stumbling around the couch. “Yes, yes. Fine. Oh! There’s a bedroom you can use, upstairs and down the hall to the right...and you can um, wear one of my shirts _if you so desire._ Goodnight, Lauren...Thank you.” 

He was already walking away into the shadows. She let him go with a sigh, cleaning up the medical supplies and throwing the dirty bandages out. Once she is done, her feet come to a standstill. The silence of the house wraps her in, and her eyes gear to the fireplace. The picture frames from before build up the curiosity in her stomach. She never got a good look at them yet. Lauren’s feet moved forward, reaching for one and holding it tight. Fingers glided along the wooden frame, and inside was a photograph. _It’s little Kieran._ He’s so small, maybe eight years of age, and a huge smile on his face. His hair is still long even then, but it’s messy. Something else pulls her attention away, eyes freezing to the person next to him. It’s a tiny girl clinging to his side with a bright smile. _She’s adorable. His baby sister, maybe?_ _What happened to her?_

The jolt of Kieran’s voice has her turning and the frame slipping from her hands. The shatter of glass fell after, scattering along the rug and the photograph escaping its prison. 

“Her name is Ciara.”

Lauren holds her next breath, looking on at the way Kieran’s eyes shimmer like the sea. And she too, feels the tears coming, because she knows exactly how it feels. _The guilt_. 

“ _Was_ …her name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciara's existence was created by the Fan Theorists on discord. The thought of Kieran having a sister in general, younger or older, (I prefer younger) would be soooo adorable! But of course, I made it angsty there in the end, didn't I? Oops LOL. I was really debating on whether or not I would have Ciara be alive or not, but idk maybe Kieran just THINKS she is dead. *wink wink*
> 
> Did you notice how I made Lauren tend to Kieran's hand LAST. LIKE---IT SHOULD BE FIRST, BUT KIERAN IS SO STUBBORN HE'D RATHER NOT SAY ANYTHING, AND LAUREN KNOWS HE WANTS TO BE FUCKED UP MORE WHEN SHE'S TENDING TO HIS FINGERS, SO SHE WAITED UNTIL HE WAS 2 BOTTLES DEEP.  
> Idk why I'm typing in caps, I also realized a lot of this story doesn't even fit the 'time period' of PH, but it also reminded me that there's not a ton of limitations because PH is not set in a specific time within our world. 
> 
> I also really enjoyed thinking of Kieran having this library type space, with loads of books, drawings and pencils. But it's a lot more 'homely' than his Apartment one, which feels---sad and lonely. And he has a nice ass comfy chair and desk. Having Lauren sit there and try to imagine living in his world is a big deal, and I'd really like to see this done in the canon material. Lauren, surprisingly for being a detective, doesn't try to live in the shoes of Kieran. Because, why would she? But I think down the road when they're closer, it could be something really impactful for her, especially if this is revealing something of his past. 
> 
> Anyways. Again, thank you for keeping up with the story :)! I will, of course, be working on the other stories I'm currently writing, but I do have an outline for the next chapter of this story already set up, and it's going to get EMOTIONAL, IDK MAYBE EVEN FLUFF? Most of this IS FLUFF ALREADY, OKAY MAYBE SPICE, THE LINES ARE BLURRED I CAN'T TELL WITH KIERAN'S SEXUAL INNUENDOS!


End file.
